Inertia
by NotEnoughTimeOnMyHands
Summary: Red and Liz find themselves stuck in the relationship that has developed, each pushing, each resisting. What exists beyond the status quo?
1. Chapter 1

Inertia

This is set post the season finale with Tom out of the picture. Liz has forgiven Red or moved on from her anger... although I think she forgives him too easy and next time they fall out (and I'm positive that'll happen again and again) she shouldn't forgive him so quickly. Let him stew! Despite all the stories I've written with Lizzington I'm not 100% sure where I stand on the ship. For me it's all about Raymond Reddington/James Spader. Red is such a compelling character and James is a wonderful actor. And besides ... I ship me and Red ;-)

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Chapter 1

Liz thinks about the turn her life has taken in the past few months. She's gone from happily married to more than happy to be divorced. She's gone from newbie profiler to integral part of a major task force. And she's gone from not knowing the FBI's fourth most wanted man to waiting for him at the bar of a restaurant where she'll be joining him for dinner.

Red and Liz now regularly see each other outside of the Post Office, outside of her professional duty and her job description. They're friends she supposes, he's good company that's for sure. Red didn't let her sulk after Tom; he didn't let her dwell on events. Instead he supported her and buoyed up her confidence in simple quiet ways. They'd talk and he'd focus on the right deductions or insights that had helped them remove Tom from her life. With just a smile or almost imperceptible nod he'd tell her he liked what she wore, or how she stood up for herself or justified her decisions to Ressler and the rest of the team. As she waits for him she thinks back on all the flak she got about Tom's secret identity and is glad that she has Red and that he has her.

Unbeknown to her, while she's thinking about Red's single minded focus on her, she's gained some unwanted attention of her own. Liz saw him coming from the moment he stood from his table. He has the look of a banker about him, like he imagines himself talented and influential because he's successful in finance. _Lucky_. It's the over inflated ego that slows his path to her stool by the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asks when he and his giant head finally arrive.

"No thank you", Liz responds, trying to indicate by her unenthusiastic and frosty tone that she isn't in the slightest bit interested.

"I know you're looking for someone. You haven't stopped looking around since you got here" the man says.

"I work in law enforcement, it's an ingrained habit." Liz tries to explain to him that she was merely maintaining routine and most definitely not looking for company.

"Nice try, nice try. I don't believe you though. I caught your eye more than once, thought I'd come over here and save you the journey to my table; where we both know you were headed" he continues.

"Let me assure you, the only reason I would have for ever approaching your table is because it's on the way to the bathroom" Liz decides on a little sass, hoping that will help to dissuade him.

"Playing hard to get! Cute" the intolerable man continues as he leans towards her, in what she can only assume is his attempt to flirt.

She's exasperated, unsure how to reject him further without resorting to violence, though it's tempting.

Just then the door opens and Red enters, followed by Dembe. Liz hides her hand, not wanting her ruse to be given away by the absence of a ring.

"Do you see that man who just walked in? The one with the bodyguard and the expensively tailored suit. That's my husband. He is handsome, rich and he loves me passionately, which is really good for me. He's also jealous, vindictive and prone to violence, which is really bad for you." Liz says to her would be suitor before turning to smile at Red.

The man gets up and all but runs away, which causes Liz to giggle a little, which in turn causes Red to raise an eyebrow as he approaches her but he doesn't ask her about it.

He kisses her briefly on the cheek, a habit he began when they started meeting for dinner. She's comfortable with the gesture, pleased that the only time he refrains is when they are in the presence of other Federal Officers. Tonight it also helps to support the little lie she told her persistent admirer.

They are shown to a large round booth near the back of the restaurant. One undeniable truth about Raymond Reddington is his good taste; it's always exquisite food, the finest wine, the most desired restaurants and always always the best table in the house. She knows that even if he was to leave, if she was never to see him again that she's gotten so used to life's luxuries that she'd continue to indulge, where her finances allowed at least. Their table is quieter than the bar and it affords a view of the whole area. Dembe waits at her stool at the bar, sipping his beer and keeping guard.

The meal progresses and Red chats, during the starter recalling a similar dish he enjoyed with an associate in Bucharest, shortly before the man pulled a gun on him. It seems he was quite determined to punish him for stealing some business, much to Red's gleeful amusement. Liz listens, smiles at the intricate detail of his description of the food and marvels at the way he glosses over the threat to his life.

Before dessert arrives he excuses himself, she watches as he exchanges a few words with Dembe then makes his way to the bathroom. Liz glances around, she wasn't lying earlier, it's a difficult habit to break. This sweep results in the knowledge that her admirer no longer seems to be in the restaurant, though his friends are still there. Her brow furrows slightly before her eyes wander on. Then her thoughts travel to other diners, briefly alighting on a couple, seated close, enjoying a romantic meal. She looks away before she has even has a chance to think, to dwell, to feel something about other peoples lives.

Liz doesn't see him return but feels him slide in beside her. She doesn't immediately turn to face him, distracted by her observations and the music that's being played, she's entirely too content in the moment. Red takes his chance to move extremely close, wrapping an arm around her back and bringing his lips to whisper over her hair, placing the faintest kiss before moving again, breathing in her scent.

"Ahem" she says without moving, trying to appear that she's not at all thrown by this sudden onslaught of affection. He doesn't respond, but she hears a quiet rumbling growl escape from his chest. He's clearly enjoying this and clearly trying to elicit a reaction. "Can I help you with something?" she says, hoping for more of an explanation.

Red moves his lips back towards her ear, whispering, "oh I'm just playing the part of the predatory husband Lizzie. I wish you'd told me earlier, I feel like we wasted valuable time". As he says this she lifts her eyes, only to catch sight of her admirer hastily making his way out the door.

"Oh ... That. I can explain" Liz says a little flustered.

"Please don't" Red says as he begins to kiss his way along her jaw.

Liz can't help it, the sensation created by his soft lips and the warmth of his mouth as he continues to tease her is so intense that she closes her eyes, breathes deeply and just takes a moment to enjoy it. A small involuntary sound of pleasure escapes her lips. The sound is lustful, accepting and encouraging all at once. Liz is unaware of it herself but it stops Red in his tracks and he moves back a fraction to look at her.

Self consciously she turns and their eyes lock; for a moment they just stare at each other. Then Liz drops her gaze, looking down and away as embarrassment heats her cheeks. The moment feels tense and she scrambles to think of anything to say that can divert his attention from the fact that he just kissed her; not because he wanted to but as part of some game, yet despite that fact, she enjoyed it, really enjoyed it, and now he knows it.

"The guy" she starts to blurt something out, "he asked to buy me a drink. He was awful and wouldn't be put off. I just... I just said that, you being my husband, cause I thought it would put him off. Did he say something to you? I... You... You weren't supposed to find out". She says as she nervously brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

Red lifts his arm, moving away until he is no longer touching her. The action brings another wave of mortification and Liz feels like her heart sinks a little at the rejection. Up till now she hadn't acknowledged the depth of feeling she had for Red but now she's certain of it because she is already starting to feel the now familiar splintering of her heart.

The awkward silence that ensues extends until dessert arrives. Liz wants away, to hide from what just happened, from Red and from the realisation they've both made about her feelings towards him. Yet she can't bring herself to move, to lift the spoon or her head. She knows she should just affect nonchalance and blag her way through the last remaining course but she's frozen.

Less than half a minute passes but to Liz it feels like an eternity. Time has a way of expanding when misfortune is to be enjoyed. It's the torturous silence that finally spurs her into action, "Red, I'm sorry" upturning her hand in a passive gesture before resting again on the table. "I'm just gonna go" she says, lifting her purse before she begins to remove herself from the booth and this now awkward situation.

But Red's hand stops her, reaching out and resting on the one she has on the table. "I'm sorry", he says simply lifting his gaze to her.

"Don't be" she shakes her head and smiles shyly at him. She hasn't really even begun to process the feeling she has or the ramifications for them both but Liz thinks he can't help how he feels. He can't help that he's shocked by her willingness for physical contact with him, for his attention and affection.

When she makes to go again he tightens his grip on her arm. "I need another moment Lizzie" he tells her. Finally when he's thought how to proceed he turns his body to hers again.

"I'm much older than you" Red finally states.

"I know" Liz responds.

"I'm a criminal, you an FBI Agent." Red tells her.

"I know" she says again.

"It's dangerous for you to spend time with me, to know me at all" he continues.

"Red, I know" she says a bit more emphatically. He doesn't have to spell it out, she suspects that he's letting her down the easy way, telling her impersonal reasons. Even when he's rejecting her he seems to seek the path of least discomfort for her.

This time when she smiles at him it's warm and loving. "I know" she whispers, gathering her purse again before exiting the booth. But Red seems to have decided their conversation is far from over, following her away from the table, having quickly left a generous amount of cash to cover their meal.

Dembe, having observed everything up to and including Liz's attempted departure, is already waiting by the car when they exit. Liz slips in while Red walks around to take his seat. She's folded her arms over her body, in an unconscious effort to hold it together or comfort herself or both. When Red slips in he slides further over than usual, lifting his arm and resting it over her legs. Liz lifts her eyes to meet his gaze but he's already looking away, swept up in his own thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you so so much for the generous and kind reviews, the favourites and follows for the first chapter. I am so glad you enjoyed it! Here is the final part of my story. It was drafted before Meera died and I have left her in. I hope you don't mind.

This is an immediate continuation from chapter 1 xx

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When they arrive at her apartment they exit the car wordlessly and Red follows her in. Liz hangs her coat and goes to pour them some wine. When she brings it through she hands a glass to Red and places hers on the side table.

"I'm going to get changed" she says.

"Can we talk about this?" He asks as she makes to leave.

"No" Liz responds as she escapes the room. But between Red and the bedroom she stops, takes a deep, should be calming but it isn't breath, then she closes her eyes briefly before turning and re-entering the room.

"Red, I'm sorry" she says. Red has taken a seat but lifts his head when he hears her. "I said you were my husband to get out of a sticky spot, not because I've deluded myself into thinking we are involved".

"I shouldn't have behaved the way I did Lizzie. If I'd known" Red responds looking thoughtful again.

"You couldn't have, I hardly knew myself." Lizzie says flushing slightly. "Is the idea of something with me really that bad?"

"No sweetheart. No. But the things I said before are true, and beyond that is the man I am. The man I've become. I hate to sound clichéd but you deserve better" he explains.

Liz simply nods. She wonders if this is the truth or just another gentle rejection. "This won't change anything for us, will it?" she asks.

Red just shakes his head, his eyes downcast, looking at his glass while his hand lifts it to his lips.

And on the surface nothing changes. Liz is suddenly thankful for Red's game face, for his ability to hide what he's feeling with his sassy attitude, poker face and sharper than sharp suits. He breezes in and out of her life like before; coming and going as his business dictates. But all the while he continues to care for her, they speak regularly and he's not once allowed their relationship to become uncomfortable or forced.

Though the experience has left Liz with an ache that never leaves her, over time it begins to dull and when it's finally manageable she buries it deep inside, considering it the best outcome. When she stops to reflect, though she rarely does, she knows that it's Red's support, his unwavering consistency that once again made it possible for her to survive; to survive him. But things buried inside have a way of spoiling, of changing a person and before long she starts to think less about how much she loves him but why. And while Raymond Reddington inevitably neglects to provide answers, Liz uses her profiling skills and her life experience to create reasons of her own. The result of all this thought, all this reflection, all this deeply buried desire is a more guarded, careful and cautious Liz. She can't change how she feels but she can't stop herself from forming such a foolish attachment again.

Months later things continue much as they have been. When the Friday arrives and a weekend off is promised, she finds herself at a loss. Red is away, he's been away for the week and she doesn't know exactly when he's due to return. Suddenly the prospect of a weekend alone looms and she is determined to make something off of it.

She almost makes it out of the war room when Meera corners her. "Weekend plans Keen?"

"Nothing concrete, just recharging my batteries and catching up on some much needed sleep I think", Liz responds.

"That sounds quiet" Meera quips. "I have a friend, newly single and he's looking to hook up". Over her shoulder she can hear Ressler snort with laughter. Has her life really gotten so bad that her colleagues feel the need to set her up on a pity date? Apparently so.

"Eh, thanks Meera. I just don't think I'm ready" she replies, trying to contain the abject horror in her tone. She can't imagine anything worse at that point than being set up on a blind date.

Liz leaves and heads to the market. She is almost looking forward to some time at home without the pressure of the job or the emotions that inevitably come from complicated company. She mulls over Meera's offer and wonders whether it is time she moved on. She's not holding out for Red now, far from it. At some point in the future she thinks she'd like to see him happy, involved even. But she is holding out for someone who captivates her as he does. Someone who treats her like he does, like she is someone important, like she matters, like she is valued. Liz considers the likelihood of finding someone like that and wonders if Red has spoiled her to the extent that she couldn't be happy with anyone else. It's these thoughts that keep her doing laps of WholeFoods, only occasional stopping to deposit random groceries in her cart.

Back at the Post Office everyone else is wrapping up for the weekend too. Ressler is lifting his coat, switching off the computer, when Red appears at his door.

"Reddington, this had better be a social call. We're all headed home for some much needed R&R." He tells the concierge of crime.

"Calm down Donald, any task I need completed can well be achieved without your assistance. I'm simply looking for Agent Keen" Red says, his tone even but his words caustic.

Ressler decides to mess with Red, getting him back for the thinly veiled jibe that he doesn't appreciate, by informing him of Meera's date night plan but not clearly stating Liz's opposition. A little ambiguity never hurt anyone. After all, it's not exactly a lie, not exactly the truth.

Ressler watches Red's reaction closely but there isn't so much as a tightening of his jaw, to indicate even a modicum of surprise or displeasure at hearing the story. Having listened to the words Red simply lifts his hat and exits. Ressler's knows this reaction is more telling than any words, any expression or emotion. He momentarily feels guilty but considers that Liz will set him straight soon enough.

Despite the time spent at the market Liz only has two small bags of shopping and nothing coherent enough to resemble a meal. She gathers the bags from her car, makes her way up the steps and unlocks her front door, depositing the keys on the table and carrying her sparse shopping into the kitchen. She doesn't notice Red sitting on her couch, so exhausted is she and relieved to be home. Nor does she notice when he stands and crosses the room to approach her.

"Where have you been Lizzie?" He asks quietly, but still startling her with his presence.

"Red, what are you doing here?" She asks, lifting her hand to her chest, breathing deeply from the surprise.

"You haven't answered my question" he answers.

"What does it look like?" She says, turning from him and starting to unpack the groceries.

"I'm not interested in what it looks like, I'm interested in what it is" he tells her just as coolly.

"Shopping, that's it. What did you hear?" She asks, wondering about his sudden suspicion.

Relief floods through Red, of course he'd hidden his anxiety from Ressler but the idea of Lizzie with someone, someone who's not him, leaves him with a weight on his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth.

He moves towards her, somewhat involuntarily but clear in his purpose. Liz turns around to ask why he hasn't responded to her question just as Red leans in. But as he dips his head to meet her lips Liz leans slightly backwards, over the work top. She drops her chin and furrows her brow. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"What does it look like?" He says, unconsciously mimicking her phrase from moments ago.

"I have no worldly idea" she says in a slightly angered tone.

Red steps back, noting the tone and her reluctant stance. "You appear a little vexed with me Lizzie".

Liz pauses, seeming to gather her thoughts. Minutes pass before she says, "let me get this straight, when it was me who wanted you, I had to learn to live with it, to move past it. But now you want something and you have the audacity to just go ahead and take it. That doesn't seem like an injustice to you? You don't feel at all hypocritical?"

When Red doesn't respond Liz continues, "I've thought about this over the past few months. What you said the night we last talked on the subject has really struck me as true. Not about you being older, who really cares about such nonsense beyond high school. But about the man you are. On reflection I realised that the bits I don't know are the bits that make this such a terrible idea. You keep me safe; you care for me, you always set out to help me succeed where ever I am and whatever I am doing. I've had the most interesting experiences with you. I've seen parts of the world I never thought I'd get the chance to visit, I've had meals and drinks in restaurants and bars that most people don't know exist or could never get a reservation at. I have designer dresses and shoes in my closet that I could never afford on my government salary. You have been such a good, such a loving friend. Silently standing by me when you know I'm struggling, supporting me all the while allowing others to believe I'm strong enough to do it alone. But one day, one day when the last Blacklister is caught or you get the revenge that you must desire, you'll leave. I'm just part of this, and though I've obviously convinced myself that I'm an important part, I'm just a cog, just a play, just a detail in this convoluted plan of yours." Liz tells him.

"Is that so?" Red says, his tone flat and even, yet sounding strangely dangerous none the less.

"Are you going to tell me something different?" She asks, baiting him for the answers she knows won't come. She waits, watches him while he considers everything that she had said. "I thought not" she says dryly after several moments of silence before returning to her task of putting away the groceries. Red is silent behind her, for all Liz knows he could have left already, silently slipping from the room, now he's heard what she's been bottling up inside.

"I'm sorry Lizzie but I can't let you just walk away, I can't let you meet someone and be with them while I stand and watch and make believe that it's not killing me" he says softly but with a purpose. She let him talk her out of a relationship all those months ago but he isn't so easily persuaded. It's perhaps his greatest strength and his biggest weakness.

"That's exactly what you expected me to do. I can't believe this. You have absolutely no right to say that to me. None!" she says raising her voice, all the emotion she'd suppressed all those month starts to bubble to the surface, starts to fuel that fire of her anger. "How dare you!" she says, her voice even louder now.

"Don't raise your voice at me, not now, not over this" he tells her, his own voice louder than usual.

"Are you freaking kidding me? Don't raise my voice! You asshole. How dare you come here and say that to me" as she says this she approaches him, pushing against his chest without effect. It's doesn't matter to her that he is unmoved; it was more a signal to back off than an intention to hurt him.

"Do not push me Lizzie" Red is regaining the control he lost, lowering his voice and though his words have a double meaning she knows he means their conversation, not her physical push. But it just angers her further.

"Get the hell out of my house!" She rages.

"No" he says. The level and tone of his voice has dropped now; to anyone else it would sound menacing, threatening and dark. But Liz is buzzing from the adrenaline, she can't hear it and she is far from ready to back down.

"I'll do whatever I want, be with whomever I want, raise my voice at and push whomever I want, now get the hell out" she almost screams.

"I will not stand by and watch you be with someone else, I think I made myself perfectly clear. You cannot expect me to do so" Red explains, his tone softening, but the blood pumping in Liz's ears makes it impossible for her to hear the subtle shift.

"Why not?" She questions again.

"Because I already lost one wife, and I feel like that's enough for one lifetime" Red says quietly. The power of his words immediately drains her anger, drains the adrenaline and the rage that she feels. It momentarily robs her of her voice and the thrust of her argument. Red just waits, just watches her reactions.

Liz thinks it's a slip of the tongue, she thinks that despite his controlled exterior that he's let his own emotions run riot. Finally she manages to force some words out, her voice thick with emotion that she can barely contain, "I'm not your wife".

"Not yet" Red replies. The words are spoken with certainty, a clear statement, not a suggestion but a fact. For him it is that simple. He's not being presumptive; there is an undeniable inevitability about their future. He knows it and he doesn't know why he waited so long to share it with her.

His words bring a sudden shockwave and in their wake there is nothingness. The silence that pervades the room is deafening. All these months she lived with the certain knowledge that he did not want her and in a few simple words he's altered her perception dramatically.

"I'm not your wife" Liz finally repeats, lost in her thoughts and returning to the last moment of conscious awareness.

"No Lizzie, you are not. But if you let me in again, let me touch you as I once did, if you'd let me kiss you, let me care for you, cherish you and hold you, you'd know how much I want for you to be just that." He says as he steps progressively closer to her.

Lizzie looks up at him, a little wide eyed, "I don't know Red. I'm not sure".

"You don't have to be sure, I'm sure. I'm certain enough for both of us" he says as he leans down to kiss her, but this time she lets him.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N A few people asked to see the relationship develop between Red and Liz in my story. Here is a chapter/epilogue/ramblings from my head that describe the type of relationship I can see develop from this story. Thank you again for the reviews, follows and favourites. I really appreciate your words and though I have no more fanfics planned I look forward to reading what others write for the Blacklist.

Here is the final chapter.

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Inertia

Chapter 3

When Red kissed her that night it had been tantalising, all consuming, and a promise of the future he told her they'd share. Though Red could have progressed things immediately, he'd thought about and waited for that moment for so long, he decided that Lizzie needed time to process the change in status of their relationship. She'd been overwhelmed by what he'd told her and he was certain she'd be overwhelmed when she realised just how much he physically wanted her. Red had never felt quite so much passion or deep seated desire, and given that Lizzie's husband had been faking it he was certain she'd never felt so wanted before.

When he managed to stop kissing her and both had returned to a state of semi normal breathing he stepped back in order to gauge how she was feeling. Liz was watching him, her eyes wide, her expression mild apprehension, tinged with lust. His eyes roamed her face, and when they came to rest on her reddened and swollen lips he stepped back further, fearing that the sight of her like that might be his undoing, or at the very least propel him into action, despite his concern for her preparedness.

Stunned into further silence Liz just watches him as he steps away and begins to navigate her kitchen, pulling ingredients from the shelves, obviously intent on preparing a meal.

"Lizzie, how can it be that just having returned from the store you don't seem to have enough ingredients to make a complete meal?" Red asks when he's finished routing around in the cupboards and started to put away the few things he'd begun to gather. "I could prepare a simple pasta dish but I don't think passable will suffice tonight".

"Red" is all she says, but it's the tone, the gathering apprehension no longer contained to just her expression, that tells him she's still very much coming to grips with this. Still in shock from the news he hadn't planned to tell but somehow in the depths of his own anxiety he had managed to let escape.

Red quickly finishes his task then walks round to stand with her, leaning the small of his back into the work top, taking her hand and holding it in both of his. "Lizzie, you are always digging, always searching for and asking for the truth" he says quietly. "I'm sure it feels strange that on this occasion it's been so forthcoming, but it is the truth nevertheless". Then for a while he just let's them be. Just stands beside her and waits while acceptance begins to bud, a process he is patient enough to observe.

That night when they go out for dinner and from that night on, instead or those semi regular touches Red liked to indulges in, suddenly he's never not touching her. He holds her arm, touches the small of her back, places a hand in hers or rest an arm around her shoulders when they are sitting. He continues this in the weeks and months to come and sometimes when he needs to be a bit more protective he places his arm over her legs so she's situated slightly behind him, so people will know just how willing he is to keep her, safe and for himself.

Over the months he's noticed she never instigates things with him. Who can blame her for being so reticent? For being so reluctant to believe the truth when she'd been so readily deceived into marriage. And her hesitation always softened and slipped away when they were intimate; talking or touching or just together.

As their relationship gathers momentum, increasing in depth every moment they spend together, they discuss what their future means to their present. Both of their lives have been in a state of flux for as long as they care to remember, so change doesn't concern either of them. Separation however does. So Red handles any incursion into their happiness, no matter how slight, with the appearance of good humour, but when required, with lethal force. When Ressler starts to raise an eyebrow at their growing attachment he mostly receives the good humoured response, but it does the job all the same.

Being the centre of Red's world is all consuming, seductive and reassuring for Liz. Without bending to his will she tries to make herself pliable; accommodating to his needs but strong when appropriate. She wants him to know she'll listen but it wouldn't do to always give Raymond Reddington his way. She challenges him but also thanks him with her actions whenever she can; little gestures of friendship, of thoughtfulness and unity. And of course she returns his love, his lust and wanting because she feels those things as strongly as he does.

A few weeks later they are together at some $10, 000 a plate charity dinner. She's his FBI date and though it's not officially acknowledged, his actual date. She's introduced as Elizabeth to all his passing acquaintances and to their mark for the evening. The object of this evening, from the FBI perspective is to have eyes on their subject and anyone he comes into contact with. For Red the lines are a little more blurred than that. Liz does her best to keep him in check but he's playing the date part so well that Ressler's already suggested in her earpiece that they get a room.

With the dinner over and the lights dimmed people start taking to the dance floor. They sit enjoying the champagne that's on offer, comfortable in each other's company and content to watch the night unfold. After a while Red stands and offers Liz his hand. She thinks they are leaving, their subject left an hour ago and they only stayed on to keep up appearances. But instead he leads her to the dance floor, intent on enjoying her in his arms. They've danced before, in her living room, in the kitchen at Fredrick's apartment, in a secluded garden at another nameless safe house, and on countless other private occasions. Dancing with him is wonderful but ultimately telling. He's so intimate with her, so full of desire and appreciation for her body, for her whole person, that it's slightly intoxicating to experience. If people witness this, feel even an ounce of what she feels then everyone will know and have proof of what they are to each other. Are they ready for such a step?

"Red" she says in a panicked tone as he leads her onto the floor but he just shushes her softly, soothing her, communicating just how unconcerned he is to have them known about. And so they dance, and those who see, those whose job it was to surveil and those who stop to watch, see it for what it is. They see the bond between them, the connection and the love like it's a physical entity in the room.

The following week Red is away on business when a takedown, a follow up from one of their cases, goes slightly awry. Though it could have been worse the violent altercation that resulted sees Liz head home with bruised ribs and a nasty looking, if superficial, head wound. She's shaken though she hides it from the team during the debrief. She wants to get home, to call Red on the satellite phone, to hear his voice. That she thinks, will be enough to settle her nerves.

But of course, when she gets home he's there. He doesn't overwhelm her but gently greets her, examining her injury and offering her the comfort she desired. It is more than she'd hoped for and enough to banish the tremors that wouldn't subside.

"Who told you?" She asks, still wrapped in his arms.

"Donald" Red responds.

"He's supposed to be my partner, why is he reporting to you?" she asks, amused to hear of this clandestine communication between the two of them.

"Because he knows what I'd do if he didn't tell me" Red explains as if he's pointing out the obvious.

Later, after she's washed and they've eaten together Red says, "Lizzie, it may have come to your attention that I'm rather fond of you".

Liz smiles broadly at him, laughing at his old fashioned but charming choice of words. "Flattery will get you nowhere" she responds lightly.

He just tilts his head for a moment, his eyes sparkling in amusement before reaching into his pocket and removing a small box. He places it on the table and opens it to reveal an elegant if large diamond ring.

Liz looks at him and then the ring and then back again several times before Red says, "I'd ask you but we both know what you would say."

"What? That sometimes you can be intolerably smug" she laughs.

His laugh is quick but the joy of it lingers. Of course they both know. What he told her all those months ago was right; it feels like it was their destiny, long before either would have considered it a possibility. So the yes he finally receives, when he frames his question a more appropriate way, isn't a surprise to either of them.

It's not the perfect relationship because there is no such thing. You can only try to make it that way for yourself because you love the person you are with and understand the value of them, their weaknesses and their strengths. You also try for them, because you have just as many vulnerabilities, and as many virtues. Some people spend their lives looking at the other side of the river, imagining great riches, splendour and wealth. Searching for more; searching for some mythical alternative that will satisfy. But Red and Liz spend it together, enjoying the luxury they've already found, not casting around for alternatives but revelling in the abundance they already possess.

THE END – This time I mean it xx


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